Nero Acqua
by sparkshift
Summary: We all know how Bella felt as she went to Italy to save her love. But how did Edward feel, when he went to end his life?


"Sir, are you alright?" a concerned stewardess asked me, bending down to look at me more carefully since I was sitting at a window seat, staring down at the black ocean waters below. I hadn't realized I was shaking with the pain that this waiting invoked.

I looked up at the short, tan women with black hair. Her accent suggested she was from Brazil. _I wonder what could have him so upset. He's such a nice looking boy; I envy any girl that he gets. But he looks so sad. Did someone get hurt?_

"I'm fine," I said stiffly, making my face into the hard mask I often wore to hide my emotions from the world. I didn't want any reminders of the unlucky girl who I had fallen in love with. And she was right in guessing someone was hurt. Someone had been, and it was fatal. It brought me too much pain to think of, and I didn't want to attract any attention from the humans here. So I stopped the thoughts in that direction, focusing on the now.

"Alright then. Please don't hesitate to ask for anything if you have a problem," she said politely, and then walked quickly away. She had seen something in my face that told her to stay away, which she wisely did. I wasn't sure how strong my control was in my state right now.

I wasn't even sure what state _I_ was in right now.

I dully remembered getting plane tickets, getting on the soonest flight possible to Italy, rushing though the crowd as many female humans gawked at me. None of them were the one girl I wanted to see though. So I ignored all of them. It was in their best interest anyway.

No, instead I focused solely on the thought of the release coming, the escape from the smothering pain. It was all I could do to make myself move, and not crash into a heap on the floor. No matter how strong I once was; I felt weaker than any human to ever exist. I _was_ weaker than any vampire that had existed; the emotional trauma my mind was experiencing handicapped me unimaginably.

Now that I was on my way to Volterra, it was harder to try and shy away from the impending agony that was coming. Being still with nothing to do left my mind little room for distraction. I had to face the truth, no matter how much I tried to push it away.

She was dead.

The most important person to ever be born into existence, the angel God sent down to try and grace us all, was gone forever, to the place I would never be able to follow. Even if Carlisle's ideas of still having our souls were true, I would defiantly be allowed to go to heaven with my angel. For the sins I had committed, the gates of hell would be the first thing I would see in my afterlife. And even if somehow I was allowed into God's kingdom, why would she even want to see me, be with me, love me? I had hurt her in the worst way possible with an atrocious lie, and it had cost us both her precious, short life. Not even she, one of the most forgiving, accepting people ever, could take me back after what I did.

I shook again with the pain, though I tried as hard as I could to reduce, channeling the tribulation internally, making my dead heart shatter even more, splintering off and stabbing me with it's sharp shards.

I glanced down at the water, and realized it was a mirror of my heart. Black, jagged and unreflective. There was no light left in the world now. Nothing to ease any pain or guide me through the unending night. There was no brightness here, no safety or happiness. A moonless night.

An image suddenly came to my mind, of the first night I had stayed with Bella, how she whispered her sweet words, invoking feelings I thought forever lost, along with my humanity. The sweet and seemingly unending joy that took over me seemed like it was from a different life from the one I had previously lived. The intense anguish that simple memory brought me was unnerving. I took a deep breath and bit my lip, trying to stop myself from crying out. I rode out the pain, shaking slightly in my first class seat. I was aware of some people looking at me anxiously, but their thoughts didn't bother me. They weren't important anymore. Nothing was.

Trying to distract myself, I looked down at my watch. Only an hour had passed since I boarded this plane. And I still had at least another nine hours before I would be in Florence.

I felt like I was drowning under the black water.


End file.
